


Bellamy's Decision

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:32:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy adopts a grounder baby.  Because of course he would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bellamy was the one who found him, left naked and exposed to the elements on a cold spring morning—a baby, tiny and wrinkled and perfect except for his left foot, which was twisted and thick with marbled skin that reminded him of melted wax.  He wrapped the baby in his jacket and went straight back to Camp Jaha (now more of a village than a camp, and after three years of peace the walls were more for protection against animals than any human foes) to ask Lincoln how to best track down the mother.

To his surprise, Lincoln refused to help at all.  “It’s not our way,” he insisted.  “The mother has chosen to return the baby to the earth—she will not accept him back, nor will she acknowledge him as her own.”  Lincoln explained that it was necessary to remove the taint of radiation from their bloodlines, but Bellamy was already almost shaking with rage.  The baby was sleeping quietly in his arms as Bellamy hissed that Lincoln’s people were  _savages_  and stormed out of Lincoln and Octavia’s tent, deaf to Octavia’s pleas that he just  _listen_.

The triumvirate of Kane, Jaha, and Griffin were highly displeased with Bellamy’s decision to keep the baby, something he’d snarled in their general direction while the baby’s wails pierced everyone’s ears.  Kane pointed out that it might be seen as meddling and Jaha accused him of jeopardizing the peace and placing all their lives at risk, at which point Bellamy spat out that Jaha had executed his mother for the crime of having a baby and sent children down here to die he was  _done_  letting Jaha think he had some sort of moral high ground.  The three adults left his tent (the baby’s cries getting increasingly shrill) muttering darkly about sending a diplomatic envoy to reassure the Grounders that they would not be meddling any further.

Bellamy didn’t give a shit because right now, he had more important issues, like the fact that he was holding a newborn who was starving and he had no idea how to feed him.  Fortunately Monroe pushed her way into his tent next, a woman in her early thirties trailing behind her.  “My old neighbor,” she said by way of introduction.  “She’s in the process of weaning her son, but she’s agreed to feed your baby.” 

Bellamy blinked at her, both at the offer and the reference to  _his_  baby.  It was accurate enough, he supposed, even though it had been a mere four hours since he first heard the baby’s cries.  He mutely handed the baby over to the woman with the dour face and dark hair and watched as she pulled her breast out, quieting the squalling infant almost instantly.  She looked Bellamy in the eye.  “I’ll do this for six months, provided you move your tent next to ours.  My husband didn’t survive the landing, so I’d like a share of your hunting as well.”  Bellamy agreed, and that was that.

He had a son.


	2. Chapter 2

“Whatcha calling him?” Octavia asked, peering over his shoulder.  Three days in, and Bellamy still hadn’t quite decided.  Kane had come back from a meeting with Lexa and announced to the camp that any “imperfect” Grounder babies would be henceforth offered to the Sky People before being returned to the Earth (something that Lincoln reported caused a great deal of eye rolling amongst the Grounders at the foolishness of the Sky People) but Bellamy still hadn’t been able to bring himself to admit that this was real.

Octavia stuck her finger in the little boy’s hand and smiled as he gripped it tightly.  “What about Augustus?  You loved him,” she suggested with a wry smile.   

Bellamy stared down at the tiny dark bundle in his arms and shrugged.  “Doesn’t that seem like…a lot of name?” he asked, voicing the question that had been plaguing him since “Augustus” first popped into his head two days ago.

Octavia wrinkled her nose.  “Nah.  You can just call him Gus.  I think it fits.  Hello, Gus-Gus,” she cooed, and even though the baby had been on the verge of sleep his eyes flew open and focused on O.  She grinned.  “Gus-Gus it is,” she declared, and even though Bellamy had no intention of letting anyone call his son  _Gus-Gus_ , he liked how Augustus sounded.

And that was how a Grounder baby came to be named after an ancient Roman emperor.


	3. Chapter 3

“Clarke, you have to  _do_  something,” Bellamy pleaded.  He hadn’t slept in two days and he was at the end of his rope—Augustus was burning up and  _no one was taking him seriously_.

“It’s a fever,” Clarke said matter-of-factly, not even looking up from the herbs she was sorting.  “And it’s not even that high.  He’ll be fine, Bell.”  It was the same answer he’d gotten from everyone—from the wet nurse ( _my son has had fevers like this several times, just keep him cool and he’ll be all right)_  and Abby ( _simple infection, best to let it run its course)_ and even Nyko ( _Fever.  Nothing to worry about_ ).  Clarke had been out gathering all day and Bellamy had trusted that  _she_  would understand.  Her betrayal—coupled with an utter lack of sleep—snapped the last of his patience.

“He’s  _sick_ , goddammit,” Bellamy roared, ratcheting Augustus’ cries even higher.  Clarke startled at his yell and finally looked at him.

“When was the last time you slept?” she asked, which was  _not the point_.

“Does it matter?” he growled, ineffectually bouncing Augustus as she stood.

Clarke held her arms out.  “Give him here,” she ordered, and Bellamy complied, grateful that  _someone_ was listening to him.  “Now to go bed,” she said flatly.  “I’ll bring him back in the morning.”

Bellamy had several choices—he could refuse, he could yell (which would probably scare Augustus), he could fight, or…he could go to bed, because he would never admit this but he was having a hard time figuring out which Clarke in front of him was the real Clarke and which was the double courtesy of his unfocused eyes.  He turned on his heel and stormed out, secretly grateful but not willing to let her know. Augustus would be safe with Clarke, at least—she might not agree with him right now, but he trusted her.

When Bellamy woke up the next morning—having slept straight through for the first night in three months—Clarke was sitting outside her tent, cross-legged, with a fever-less Augustus in her lap.  “Who’s a big boy?” she cooed, tickling him under his chin and chubby, dark brown cheeks.  Augustus gave her a gummy smile as Bellamy crouched down next to her.

“He likes you,” Bellamy said.

“He likes everyone,” Clarke countered, and it was true—Bellamy had somehow ended up with a baby who (when he wasn’t feverish) smiled at everyone.

Augustus was a  _people person_.  Bellamy wasn’t sure he was up to that challenge. Clarke looked over at him and smiled softly.  “Feeling better?” she asked, and for some odd reason that had nothing to do with her question, he felt his heart lurch.  He nodded and Clarke handed Augustus back, brushing off her jeans as she stood.

Bellamy wondered if this was how his life was always going to change—abruptly and irrevocably and in the blink of an eye with the glance of a guard, the cry of a baby at the base of a tree, or an innocuous question asked by a woman he considered his closest friend.  


	4. Chapter 4

“Bellamy, Kane wants to—oh,” Clarke said, her words filtering in to him through a haze of sleep.  It was a boiling hot day, rivaling days on the Ark when the heating coils would go on the fritz and everyone in Factory station would feel like they were being baked to death, only worse because on the Ark eventually someone would fix it.  On Earth, you just had to wait until it cooled down.

The last thing Bellamy remembered was trying to quiet down a fussy Augustus, who was now sleeping peacefully on Bellamy’s bare chest.  Clarke stood frozen in his doorway, her ears turning bright pink as she flicked her eyes around his tent, looking anywhere but his chest.  Bellamy sat up and slid his son into his arms in one easy movement (they napped like this a lot, actually) and let his amusement show on his face.  “Did you need something, princess?” he teased, just a hint of old-Bellamy coming through in his tone.

“Oh, um—yeah, right.  That,” Clarke muttered.  “Kane needs to see you about the western fortifications, so I’ll watch Gu—Augustus while you’re busy,” she explained to her feet. 

Bellamy handed the still-sleeping baby to Clarke and pulled on his shirt, but before he left the tent he leaned towards her ear.  “You’re always welcome to look,” he whispered, and the blush that spread down her neck as he left put a smile on his face for the rest of the day.


	5. Chapter 5

Augustus inherited several dozen aunts and uncles, as the remaining members of the 100 adopted him as their own.  It took Raven a little longer than most to warm up to him (at least compared to Harper and Monroe who were constantly stealing him out of Bellamy’s arms), but Bellamy found her one day with Augustus settled on her lap as she fixed a set of walkie-talkies, talking him through it step-by-step.  The fact that he was only a few months old and still hadn’t quite figured out that his feet weren’t chew toys didn’t seem to matter to Raven.  After that, Bellamy made it a point to leave Augustus with her at least once a week—he remembered all too well what it was like to have no one else in the world.  It felt good to see her smile as she pressed a kiss to Augustus’ thatch of dark, curly hair.

Plus, Raven was a slightly more competent babysitter than Jasper and Monty, no matter what they said.  On the one hand, they were good at keeping Augustus entertained (even though they insisted on calling him  _Gus-Gus_  and no amount of threats seemed to stop them), especially once Jasper discovered Augustus’ delight at peek-a-boo when played with Jasper’s oversized goggles.  On the other hand, Monty decided to “step it up a notch” one day and yell “BOO” at the top of his lungs as he jumped into Augustus’ line of sight.  The resulting cries took ten minutes to calm and Monty tried to make amends by building Augustus a  _potato gun_ , which Bellamy just thanked him for and handed to Clarke for safekeeping the second Monty left his tent.

Bellamy even caught Miller being sappy—or more correctly, Raven and Octavia caught him and stopped Bellamy from interrupting.  “Whose little toesies are these?” Miller was saying in a high pitched voice while Raven and Octavia collapsed in silent giggles and Bellamy stared on in disbelief.  “Are they yours?” Miller continued, waving Augustus’ feet in the air.  “They just look so delicious,” he said and then put them in his mouth and made  _nomming_   _noises_.  It was less the action and more the  _person_  that had Bellamy in utter shock, and he wasn’t sure how long it would have gone on if Miller’s “toesies for dinner!” proclamation hadn’t brought out a loud shriek of laughter from Raven.  (To his credit, Miller refused to be embarrassed.  “Nothing wrong with liking babies,” he told the girls as he handed Augustus back to Bellamy.)

Clarke’s role with Augustus was a little more complicated than honorary aunt, though.  After that bout with fever she was around more often, and when they discovered that Clarke alone had the power to sing Augustus to sleep she started stopping by every night.  Once he fell asleep (sometimes in Clarke’s arms, sometimes in Bellamy’s) they would put him down in the makeshift crib Lincoln had built as a peace offering and sit outside his tent to enjoy the cool evening breeze.

When it got colder out Clarke would stay anyway, whispering to Bellamy about their day and sometimes falling asleep in his bed.  On those nights she would get up and soothe Augustus (although he distinctly heard her call him Gus-Gus one night when she thought Bellamy was asleep) and then climb back under the covers, wrapping her now-chilled limbs around him without a second’s hesitation.

Augustus was eleven months old, playing on the floor of Raven’s tent, when he looked straight up at Clarke, held out his arms, and clearly said  _Mama_.  Clarke turned bright pink and stammered that  _she hadn’t taught him to say that, no really, she had no idea where it came from_  and Raven smothered a laugh, finally admitting that she, Monty, Jasper, and Miller (who seemed to be wherever Monty was these days) had been trying to teach him that for months.  Bellamy looked at Clarke (who was now holding Augustus and trying to unwind her long blonde hair from his iron grip) and grinned.  She grinned back and for once, those idiot delinquents  _weren’t_  going to be in trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

Bellamy steadfastly refused to call his son anything but Augustus until he became officially mobile, and then it was more of a concession to necessity than a real desire to call him Gus. “Gus,  _no,”_  was simply far easier to yell across camp than “Augustus,  _no,_ ” and thus Bellamy made one small concession to his name. (He would never be Gus-Gus, no matter what the rest of his aunts and uncles said. Even though he readily answered to Gus-Gus, much to Bellamy’s dismay).  While it took Augustus a little longer to start to crawl and a lot longer to walk than other children his age thanks to his foot, once he got going he was incredibly, incredibly fast.   _Motorbutt_ , Raven would call him with an affectionately sloppy kiss on Gus’ cheek. 

Gus was fast, and Gus was  _friendly_.  Maybe it was being raised by a cadre of poorly supervised teenagers for the most part, or maybe it was that Gus gave everyone something good to focus on when they needed it, but he was the camp’s baby, toddling around and delighting everyone.  He squealed with happiness whenever someone poked their head into Bellamy and Clarke’s tent (she’d moved in shortly after the  _Mama_  incident and roughly half the camp lost money they’d bet on when that would happen) and would sleep easily in just about anyone’s lap (even Murphy, who had avoided Gus as a baby but now liked to tell Gus fanciful stories about knights and princesses while he sent loaded looks towards Bellamy and Clarke).  Gus, quite simply, loved  _everyone_.  He even charmed Abby, who had rather stiffly announced, “I guess it’s time I got to know my grandson” and took him for one evening and then flat out refused to give him back when it was bedtime.  “Mine,” she declared, rubbing her nose against Gus’ and smiling broadly at both Bellamy and Clarke.

That was when Bellamy knew Abby had forgiven him.  (Gus did have that effect on people.)


	7. Chapter 7

For the most part, Gus’ gregariousness and fearlessness was a good thing for Clarke and Bellamy.  They could both be a little too serious sometimes; a little too wrapped up in the problems and challenges of staying alive, and Gus helped draw them out a little.  His climbing habit, however, had them at their wit’s end.  It started small—climbing up onto the chair Bellamy had in their small cabin (they’d upgraded right around the time Gus turned one), and then onto the council table during a meeting (Clarke had been elected to represent the 100 and one day literally everyone was busy so she just brought Gus with her. Never again.)  But by the time he was four, he was climbing trees and ignoring Clarke and Bellamy’s pleas to stay on the ground.

Late one afternoon, Bellamy stretched on out their bed while Clarke ran to the mess hall for their dinner and Gus played quietly on the floor.  Bellamy hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep until Clarke woke him up, sharply asking where Gus had gotten to.  Bellamy sat up and they ran outside, yelling his name, hoping Gus hadn’t gone far.

“Lose something?” Murphy smirked as he walked past and tipped his head towards the remains of the Ark that now served as a guard barracks.  Clarke looked up and gasped and Bellamy shut his eyes, hoping that he wasn’t seeing what he thought he saw—Gus, perched a good fifteen feet in the air on slanted metal, waving happily.

“Gus!” Clarke called.  “How did you get up there?”

“I climbed!” he called back happily, clearly expecting his parents to be proud of him.

Clarke glared at Bellamy, as if this was all his fault (and okay, maybe it was).  “Well?” she asked expectantly.

“Well what?” he threw back, his eyes trained on Gus in case he showed signs of slipping and falling.

“I’m sure as hell not going up there,” Clarke hissed.

Bellamy tore his eyes from Gus (who seemed fine, just very proud of himself) and looked at Clarke.  “Me?”

“Yes.  You.”

Bellamy swallowed hard.  Clarke knew him better than anyone, but what no one knew—not Clarke, not Octavia, not Miller—was that Bellamy  _hated_  heights.  He’d gone down the cliff face for Mel because he saw no other option and as he looked around at the gathering crowd, he realized he’d have to do the same for Gus.

Clarke wrinkled her nose and shaded her eyes.  “What the…” she said and Bellamy followed her gaze.  Murphy had just appeared next to Gus, having climbed up from the back.  He dropped a rope down to near where Bellamy and Clarke stood.

“All right Gus-Gus,” they heard him say.  “Climb on up.”  Murphy crouched next to Gus and let him wind his chubby arms around his neck and then with Gus securely—or as securely as he could be—on Murphy’s back, the two began a slow and nerve-wracking descent to the ground, Murphy belaying himself on the rope.

The second Murphy’s feet touched the ground Clarke and Bellamy were at his side, peeling Gus off and hugging him tightly.  “You’re welcome,” Murphy said sarcastically and Bellamy felt a surge of emotions all at once, from relief and gratitude to annoyance that now he owed  _Murphy_  a favor.  But then Gus smiled up at him—a chubby, dimpled smile that was guileless and mischievous all at once—and all that melted away.

“Come on, Gus-Gus,” he said, breaking his one steadfast rule.  “It’s time for dinner.”


	8. outtake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rashaka asked for Clarke and Bellamy sneaking out for some alone time, so I set it in this universe.

Finding alone time in Camp Jaha was nearly impossible.  For one thing, there were several hundred people living behind walls, which meant almost no physical space.  Even once they’d built cabins instead of tents and moved the walls back, space was still at a premium.  They might be at peace with the Grounders, but there were still wild animals and a handful of small tribes that had refused to acknowledge Lexa’s deal with the Sky People.  It was less dangerous than it was their first years on the ground, but it still wasn’t safe enough to take the walls down and spread out.

For another thing, Bellamy had definitely not completely thought through what adopting an abandoned Grounder baby would mean once things between him and Clarke snapped into place.  It wasn’t that he _regretted_  adopting Augustus (it happened so quickly he barely even realized it was happening but he never once felt it was a  _mistake)_  but sometimes—like when he’d been trying to coax Clarke to set aside the pharmacology textbook she insisted on reviewing every three months and come to bed and then Gus wandered into their living room, his eyes puffy with sleep and whimpering about a nightmare—Bellamy wished he and Clarke had gone about it the old fashioned way and fallen in love and  _then_  had a kid, rather than the other way around.

The next morning, he made a resolution.  He and Clarke were going to get some private time, just the two of them.  No distractions, no Augustus, no constant interruptions by members of the guard or the medical team or the remaining members of the one hundred who still all too often relied on Bellamy and Clarke to solve their problems.  He enlisted Raven first, who happily agreed to let Gus “help” her in mechanical that day.  (At least Bellamy knew Raven would keep all choking hazards away from Gus, unlike Monty and Jasper who simply didn’t comprehend that they could tell Gus “no” when he wanted something.  Bellamy would never forget the day he found his two year old son surrounded by a stack of nuts and bolts the perfect size for swallowing and choking on in Jasper and Monty’s tent.).

 Next up was convincing Abby to give Clarke a day off from her medical duties.  He didn’t think “I want to take your daughter somewhere so I can fuck her until she screams,” was really an appropriate thing to say to his sort-of-mother-in-law (Gus had started asking if Mama and Papa were married, to which Clarke had said, rather confusingly for a four year old, “kind of”) so instead he took the “Clarke hasn’t had a day off in weeks” track, which worked pretty well.  Abby Griffin had never totally warmed to him but she loved her daughter, and the dark circles under Clarke’s eyes spoke for themselves.

Bellamy thought he had everything set and ducked back into their cabin to tell Clarke they were going for a walk in the woods.  At first, Clarke resisted, but Bellamy threw her his best version of puppy-dog eyes that had never failed him yet.  Clarke rolled her eyes and agreed, knitting her fingers with his and letting him pull her towards the gate.

Bellamy had not, however, thought to set someone to clear their path.  They had only gone four steps from their cabin when Jackson hustled over, wanting Clarke’s opinion on a surgery.  “She’s off today,” Bellamy told him firmly, before Jackson could crack Clarke’s wavering resolve.  “Go ask Abby.”  Then it was Jasper, wanting Bellamy to see something he’d built for water filtration.  “Show Raven,” he told Jasper, knowing that he really just wanted someone’s approval.  They had just made it to the gates when Kane came striding over with a problem with the guard schedules.

Clarke handled that one.  “Sorry Kane, we’ve been assigned to scout one of the old bunkers for supplies,” she lied easily without even breaking her stride.

“How long do you think that excuse will hold up?” Bellamy asked as they left the shadows of the walls.

“Long enough to make it to the bunker,” Clarke grinned.  “And I found an old case of blankets we missed last time, so it won’t even be much of a lie.”

Bellamy threw his arm over Clarke’s shoulder as they walked and smiled as she leaned into him, alone at last.


End file.
